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[[Category:Bureau of Information]][[Category:Task Forces/Unit Portals]][[Category:ASR: ORIGINS]][[Category:ORIGINS: USS Hood]]
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USS HOOD - NAV Officer
USS HOOD - NAV Officer


==USS HOOD: ==
==USS HOOD: Suckerpunch==
===by ===
===by Scott Lusby===


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Suckerpunch"
Posted by: Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth)


==USS HOOD: ==
===by ===


SD: 2260.194
MD: 9.0013
Setting: Main Engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD


==USS HOOD: ==
===by ===


Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth was ready.


==USS HOOD: ==
He just hoped his engineers were as well.
===by ===


They hadn't had much time to do many additional drills since the first
fiasco that had his engineers running into DeSimms' security guys. They'd
had enough time to iron out the rough spots, and he was well pleased with
the progress...he just hoped it was enough.


==USS HOOD: ==
He watched the alert status lights flash red on his consoles, and on the
===by ===
walls, and grit his teeth.


==USS HOOD: ==
At that moment, the ship shuttered lightly.
===by ===


"Forward shields grazed- no appreciable damage," called one of his men.


Gar simply nodded. He had the ship's status monitor displayed on one of the
large screens in front of him, but he also had a repeater of a tactical
screen on another of his large monitors. He saw the Klingon ship, its icon
glowing the angry red of a hostile target, let loose a hail of disruptor
fire, and saw the HOOD, with its own icon haloed in the soothing green of an
undamaged ship, simply absorb the blows.


----
The ship had hardly shaken at all.
 
On the tactical screen, he saw HOOD fire back; at the same time, he noticed
the ambient background noise of Main Engineering begin to grow louder, some
of it from systems drawing more power from the warp cores, some of it from
the din of combat.
 
The halo surrounding the Klingon ship on his tactical repeater turned
yellow.
 
"The Klingon's shields have dropped to 43%!" another of his officers called.
 
"Forget the Klingon ship!" Gar shouted. "Keep an eye on your boards--"
 
At that moment, he watched a volley of torpedoes speed away from the Klingon
ship and hit HOOD; the ship shuddered violently around him, knocking several
of his men to the decks.
 
"That one packed a wallop- forward shields down to 73%; port phaser fire
controls are not responding; #2, 3 and 5 dorsal-port shield generators have
overloaded."
 
Th'elenth responded immediately. "OK- let's roll out the DamCon teams to
port side, D-deck. Suits for everyone- I don't want anyone dying due to any
sudden decompressions."
 
Gar knew his DamCon teams should already BE in their suits, but he felt
better reminding them.
 
Gar could hear still more power being bled away from the warp core, its
rhythmic pulse picking up its pace as a man's heart would during a
long-distance run. He imagined HOOD returning fire, bringing a massive
phaser and photon volley against their foes, first knocking their tortured
shields into submission with the shape-charged antimatter missiles, and then
raking the Klingon's hull with blue-white filaments of phased energy,
punching holes in its skin where no holes should be, destroying their means
to bring destruction upon HOOD.
 
Then, far quicker than Gar had anticipated (starship combat always WAS
quicker than most people imagine), the HOOD shuddered no more; its warp core
still hummed, but its rhythm slowed some.
 
Gar looked at his tactical repeater. The enemy ship was moving away from
HOOD quickly, surrounded by the crimson halo of a heavily-damaged ship, HOOD
pursuing and gaining.
 
And then, suddenly, his tactical repeater changed.
 
"Uh-oh," Gar muttered.
 
"It's not over yet! He shouted as two more blips, both colored red by the
ship's tactical computer, appeared from seemingly nowhere.
 
The HOOD shook violently again.
 
 
<<NRPG>>
 
All- Just giving a little combat perspective from somewhere in the middle of
the ship.
 
Remember: Gar's in Engineering, and so he's not watching the battle as it
unfolds like the bridge people would be. So there's plenty of room to fill
in with some fancy flying, all sorts of bridge excitement, etc.
 
I hope that's around what we were thinking, Andy. ;)
 
I imagine Gar will get quite a bit busier in the next few minutes or so...
;)
 
 
Respectfully Submitted,
 
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Entrenchment==
===by Scott Lusby===
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Entrenchment"
Posted by: Scott Lusby (Crewman Dale "Dead Meat" Thompson, Security)
 
 
SD: 2260.194
MD: 9.0017
Setting: Caves on outskirts of Outpost 8, Planetside
 
 
Crewman Recruit Dale Thompson crouched in hastily-dug earthworks, phaser
rifle in hand, and wondered- not for the first time- what the hell he was
doing here.
 
Thompson, whose friends called him "Dead Meat" because of his hunting
prowess (anything coming into his shooting range was simply "dead meat"),
was barely 18 years old. He had enlisted in Starfleet the day after his
birthday, deciding to channel his excitement and wonderment of the stars
into a career.
 
That was 10 weeks ago.
 
Thompson had been in boot camp when HOOD had been at Monil IV; he knew only
of Captain Sinclair by word-of-mouth, and had, thus far, never fired his
phaser in anger against another sentient being. Oh sure, he'd fired against
SIMULATED targets, and was one of the few Security people who had
consistently distinguished himself in the joint drills aboard HOOD over the
last week. But the phasers were neutered, and the enemies only friends in
disguise.
 
This was not the same thing- not NEARLY the same thing.
 
The Klingons were out there- somewhere. They had a pretty good idea where,
too, although the deposits in the hills and surrounding mountains made it a
little difficult to get a firm count of numbers.
 
But they were coming.
 
Dale rested the rifle on the edge of the trench, and squinted through its
eyepiece. There was movement out there, behind the brush and rocks and
boulders...
 
His brow furrowed; Klingons were supposed to be much more direct than this;
they didn't sneak and hide and bob and weave. It was almost Romulan in
nature--
 
And then he saw it- a figure, clearly Klingon, standing upright from behind
a large rock. He was gensturing...
 
Thompson took careful aim; the minute they opened fire, he would return it
in kind...
 
It was only then that he heard the whine overhead, descending as the photon
grenade got closer.
 
Dale "Dead Meat" Thompson had only a split second, upon that recognition,
that the Klingon behind the rock hadn't gestured at all, but instead was
throwing a grenade.
 
Had he had time, he MIGHT have thought his nickname somewhat ironic, given
its origin.
 
He did not have time to consider that, however. All he had time to consider
was that, as the grenade touched the ground less than 3 meters from him, he
had no where to hide.
 
 
<<NRPG>>
 
All- just kicking off the ground war on the planet. Pardon the ridiculous
name- that's for all you "Hot Shots!" fans. ;)
 
Seriously, however, I just wanted to show that sometimes in combat, no
matter how good you are or how prepared you may be, it just doesn't matter.
 
 
Respectfully Submitted,
 
-- Scott Lusby
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
Chief Engineer
 
AND
 
/\ Crewman Dale Thompson
Security
 
USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR: ORIGINS
 
 
==USS HOOD: Round One==
===by Andy Catterick===
 
SD: 2260.194
 
MD: 10.0020
 
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
 
Well at least we don’t have to worry about when the trap will be sprung anymore.  Jack thought as the elation of the first battle drifted away as the red of the two new icons silently burned on the tactical display.  The only good news was the two new ships were light cruisers.  With the damage they inflicted on the heavy they might actually have a chance to get through this. 
 
“They’re trying to flank us sir.” Ventura said as he took a moment to consult his board.  “Bogey one is turning around.” 
 
Of course he was.  This was the first typical Klingon thing he had done.  All this skulking around didn’t make sense.  Yes the first cruiser had taken a beaten but not enough to cause him to retreat, if anything the pounding should have made him more aggressive.  Steele sprang from his seat and moved to stand beside the navigation console. “Implement Pike Three and then come to course three-one-eight mark two.”  Jack jabbed at his comm button.  “Engineering prepare to divert emergency power to forward shields at Lieutenant Commander Hartinger’s command.”
 
“Pike Three, aye.”  The helmsman answered quickly.
 
“Ok Mr. Hartinger make the shot count.”
 
Van’s finger hovered over the fire key just as the palm of his other hand readied to reinforce the shields.
 
“Increasing speed, coming to new course…..Now!”  Chance exclaimed.
 
“Diverting power to shields.”  On the view screen space seemed to cart wheel around and then suddenly they were head to head with the one of the cruisers.  “Firing!”  The ship shook as both the phasers and torpedo banks energized.
 
“Right full rudder!”  Jack ordered holding on to the console as the ship’s dampeners tried to keep ahead of the violent maneuvers the helmsman executed as he dodged the feeble return fire the Klingon ship volleyed.
 
“Massive damage to the cruisers forward shields, forward weapons are offline and sensors are picking up internal explosions.” The science officer reported.  “She’s coming around to pursue but she doesn’t have the speed to catch us. The other two cruisers are pursuing but we caught them off guard.”
 
Jack nodded.  “Good work everyone.  I’d say round one went to HOOD.”  He returned to his chair and hit his comm button again.  “Gar how much longer for those port shields?  We need to come about and attack immediately and I need those shields.”
 
Respectfully,
 
Andy
 
CAPT Jack Steele
 
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Careful or You Can Lose an Eye==
===by Andy Catterick===
 
SD: 2260.198
 
MD: 10.0100
 
Scene: Planetside
 
Commander Chang of the Klingon Defense Force crept along the narrow ravine and did his best to portray the outward appearance of calm and cunning that a leader of Klingons should always bare.  But inside he seethed with rage and the damp and muddy terrain only added fuel to that fire.  What was the term the Terrans used?  Clusterluck?  Something like that.  Certainly it described this disaster perfectly.  He halted as he came into sight contact with the scout ahead who immediately gave him the down hand signal.  Ensuring his warriors received the signal he lowered himself deeper into the cold muck careful to keep his disrupter above it. 
 
This was not what a Klingon warrior was about.  War with the Federation was not necessary at this point, especially with the Romulan’s breathing down their necks.  The Federation might have strong warships and large fleets but they had no backbone.  As  long as the cowards were left alone they were harmeless, they had no belly for a fight.  Not unless they were given a reason, and then they fought with a guile and ruthlessness which he well understood.  He had no doubt that a war between the KDF and Starfleet would end in a Klingon victory but all that would be left of the Empire would be a hollow shell which Romulous would eagerly crush under their boot.  It was the Romulans that they should be attacking but instead they had set their sights on the Federation.  He had heard that some of the Klingon Houses were even now making backroom deals with the Romulan nobility to assure their neutrality.  As if a Romulan could ever be trusted!
 
But with the decision made, still the High Council dithered around like a pack of old women unable to decide on when would be the right time to invade.  As if there was ever a time.  Perhaps all this contact with Romulans was making them weak.  Destroying outposts was of no value and trying to catch one of their new battlecruisers was little better.  As if Starfleet would let one of their prized jewels fall in to enemy hands.  There were seven colonized and industrially important star systems less then  five days journey from the border.  By now they could have captured all of them and placed such a large garrison on each that the Federation could never have removed them.  That should have been the opening move to this dishounourable ‘war’.
 
His senses drew him back to scout crouched down 10 meters away.  Something was coming but the scout seemed oblivious.  Just as started to warn him he simply collapsed.  And then the cliff above him exploded into a wall of shrapnel.  His last thought before pain and shock hustled him into the darkness took him was the realization that something had pierced his eye.
 
<<<NRPG>>>
 
 
Hi all…I know it’s the summer but all you need is a couple of paragraphs.
 
 
I hope Commander Chang gets some medical attention or he’ll never make general…
 
Respectfully,
 
 
Andy
 
CAPT Jack Steele
 
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Eye Patch==
===by Steve Apple===
 
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Eye Patch
 
 
SD: 2260.198
 
MD: 10.0100
 
Scene: Planet side
 
 
[Snip from Andy’s Careful or You Can Lose an Eye]
 
His senses drew him back to the scout crouched down 10 meters away.  Something was coming but the scout seemed oblivious.  Just as started to warn him he simply collapsed.  And then the cliff above him exploded into a wall of shrapnel.  His last thought before pain and shock hustled him into the darkness took him was the realization that something had pierced his eye.
 
[End Snip]
 
Kerath hated being a healer it was such an inglorious profession, but he knew that the Gods had fated with him such. As a warrior he wasn’t much good to anyone, not with this prosthetic leg. He had been forced to take this position by his Grandfather, the leader of his house, so he still might have the chance at a warrior’s death and the glory of Stovokor.
 
Hobbling out of the makeshift aid station he met the two warriors who dragged the body of Commander Chang. They saw him make his way toward them and dropped the body to the ground. “He was caught in a landslide when the top of the mountain was sheared.” One of the warriors said. Kerath could hear the contempt in the voice that addressed him.
 
“Rejoin your squad, I’ll take it from here.” He said not bothering to notice the look of disdain he received from them.
 
Kerath ran the hand scanner over his Commander and friend. Chang was a true warrior, a Klingon who knew the value of honor. He never looked down on Kerath, or showed him pity because of the injury. No Chang made sure that he always was in the thick of battle and that he always had the opportunity to die as a warrior. Kerath would make certain that his friend not share a similar fate and have every opportunity at attaining Stovokor.
 
“Wake up you great lumbering Targ.” Kareth shouted into his patient’s ear as he shook him.
 
Chang felt the searing pain in his eye and was vaguely aware of being shaken. “BIjatlh 'e' yImev” He shouted pushing at Kareth’s hand.
 
“Jup you have been injured.” Kerath whispered. “Your soldiers are watching. Take this and grip it tight.” He said handing the Commander his d'k tahg.
 
“I don’t need to grip it; I am focused against the pain. Do what you need to old friend.” Chang said.
 
“It’s not for the pain. I need you to grip it tightly and focus all of your energy on that grip so you don’t pass out. Your left eye is not salvageable; I need to cut the optic nerve and retinal vessels. I know you can withstand the pain, I’m just not sure your body can withstand the shock.” Kerath said.
 
Gripping the d'k tahg tightly Chang took in a deep breath and said “I am ready.”
 
Kerath took the exoscalpel and sliced through the destroyed eye quickly. Immediately he filled the wound with dermalyte to cauterize the vessels and seal the socket, hoping to prevent infection. “I’ll give you an old fashioned eye patch for now. When we get back to the ship I’ll bolt a permanent one in place.”
 
“QA TLHO my old friend.” Chang said as he tried to bring himself into a sitting position.
 
Kerath could feel the pain in his prosthetic leg from being in a stooped position too long. “This will aid in your recovery and let you get back in command.” He said opening his med-kit.
 
“I cannot let you give me a stimulant; they will know what you did when they inventory your drugs back on the ship.” Chang said.
 
“I’m giving you an antibiotic.” Kerath said as he drew up the drug and a secondary stimulant as well. It would be unfortunate that his med-kit was destroyed during this campaign.
 
After his friend injected him, Chang could feel the strength come back into his limbs. He knew he was not in top fighting shape, but his warriors would not.
 
Standing Kerath addressed the warriors who had watched the removal of their leader’s eye. “May you all endure pain as stoically as your Commander.” Turning back to Chang he gripped his d'k tahg tightly and slapped it against his heart. “GhIj qet jaghmeyjaj.”
 
<<NRPG>>
 
For those whose Klingon might be a bit rusty<BR>
<BR>
Stovokor                                - Klingon heaven<BR>
Targ                                    - Klingon boar<BR>
BIjatlh 'e' yImev                        - Shut up<BR>
Jup                                      - My friend<BR>
d'k tahg                                - Traditional warriors knife<BR>
QA TLHO                                  - I thank you<BR>
ghIj qet jaghmeyjaj                      - May your enemies run from you with fear<BR>
 
Respectfully Submitted
 
 
LT Commander Kerath
 
As played by
 
 
Steve Apple
 
Stile Corbett, MD
 
CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Dropping Anvils==
===by Steve Apple and Brian V. Mansur===
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Dropping Anvils
 
SD: 2260.202
MD: 10.0100
 
Scene: Planet Surface, Vicinity Outpost 8
 
Merrick squinted hard against the mid-day glare that his landing party had
beamed into. Grimly, he stood at the mouth of a dust clogged ravine. The HOOD
had torpedoed it just moments before while warping out after some more
battlecruisers. Judging by the unworldly shrieks behind the dust shroud, there
were badly injured survivors within the rubble.
 
Merrick frowned.
 
Scratch that assessment. There was an erie quality to the screams. His frown
quickly turned into one of deep consteration. The survivors didn't sound hurt.
They sounded really ... REALLY ... pissed. Presently he ducked as a green
blaster bolt whizzed high. The Klingons were chewing up the rocks blocking
their way. He realized that fire control must have really been screwed up by
the Klingons' sensor jamming. That glancing blow had just made them mad.
 
"Commander Merrick!" a familiar female voice came from behind. He turned to see
Lieutenant Yarith hustling from a nearby cave. At least his team had beamed
down in the right spot.
 
"Thanks for coming back sir," Yarith breathed. "They were right on us and we
didn't even know it." She held up a tricorder for show. "These things are
useless now. Whatever is in these rocks has them gummed."
 
Merrick gestured to the ravine crawling full of Klingons. "Seems they were able
to find you without any problem."
 
Yarith was stunned. "Holy hell. They can pinpoint us then!" She looked
skyward in alarm.
 
"They've been chased off for now. Maybe their scanners can spot us and maybe
they just got lucky. But they know where we are now. How many are in the
cave?"
 
"Just a few of us with a supply stash. The next bunch is over there." She
pointed to another side of the mountain's base.
 
"We'd better try to hold them here then." He pointed to some armoured red
shirts beside him. "Get a phaser cannon up there behind cover. Common
lieutenant, let's get inside."
 
 
 
Scene: Supply Cache Cave
 
Merrick stood with Yarith at the mouth of the cave and could see the Klingon
squad make its way toward them.
 
"They know we're here." Yarith said looking at Merick, slight panic in her
voice.
 
"Lieutenant, Klingons may be brutal, but they aren't stupid." Merrick said
annoyed at her panic. "Alert the phaser cannon crew and have them get a lock on
that squad."
 
"Yes sir." She snapped and then asked. "What about you?"
 
"As I just pointed out, Klingons aren't stupid. That squad is too visible, which
means they are probably a decoy. I'm going to scale around to the back of this
cliff's ridge and see what they are really up to."
 
"Sir do you think..."
 
"You have your orders Lieutenant." He said interrupting her.
 
"Yes sir." She said as she watched him leave the cave's mouth.
 
Merrick used the jagged rock formations along the cliff's ridge as cover, he
knew something about this Klingon assault didn't feel quite right. He stopped
for a moment and listened. He could have sworn he heard the sound of small
pebbles falling.
 
A disrupter beam nearly took his ear off. Spinning away from the beam he aimed
his phaser at the spot he thought it most likely came from. Rocks came tumbling
toward him as did a Klingon Warrior whose purchase he had destroyed.
 
Merrick scrambled from his own rocky outcropping to where the Klingon had
fallen. He approached the warrior cautiously, phaser leveled at the man's chest.
"Great now I have to deal with a prisoner." He said to himself.
 
The loud beeps from his communicator distracted him for a moment. It was long
enough for the Klingon to make his move. Merrick saw the movement, but it was
too late as the Klingon hurled the small jagged rock. Pain erupted from his hand
causing him to drop his phaser, which bounced down the cliff's side.
 
The Klingon immediately grabbed for his d'k tahg and launched himself at
Merrick. Forgetting about the pain in his hand Merrick brought his right knee up
and into the Klingon.
 
They both heard the whine of the phaser a second before they felt the cliff side
give way. Merrick jumped for the narrow opening he saw on the plateau six feet
below. The dust was thick in the air causing him to cough and choke. The Klingon
took out what appeared to Merrick to be a glow stick and threw it to the ground,
illuminating the cave. Both circled each other
warily as the dust in the cave settled.
 
"It looks like the cave entrance has collapsed." Merrick said to the Klingon.
"We can try and dig ourselves out by working together, or use up the rest of the
air we have left killing each other. Personally I'd like nothing better than to
rip your heart out, but then I'd die soon after from suffocation and I find that
kind of death empty and useless."
 
"You humans are walking self-contradictions. You go about the universe as if
knowledge and self-improvement mattered. Yet you believe all your efforts will
come to nothing. Why do you delude yourselves into thinking anything you do has
meaning unless its significance can be felt across the breadth of eternity?"
 
"It means something to me you bastard."
 
"For the few minutes that you have left to live. And after that?"
 
"I'll deal with that when I'm dead."
 
"Do not shame yourself with a coward's reply," the Klingon rebuked. "An
honorable fighter either comes to terms with Truth or he is smashed by the
reality of it."
 
"You sound like a goddamn preacher."
 
"I like to enlighten those whom I am about to send into the afterlife. The way
you fight, you may find yourself in Stovokor."
 
"Stovo huh? What's that?"
 
"It is where the honored warriors go to fight forever. Endless battle. Endless
glory."
 
"That supposed to be a Klingon's idea of heaven?"
 
"If you prefer the term."
 
"Sounds like hell to me, but whatever makes you happy."
 
"Now now Commander. Do not lie to yourself. You too would prefer such a life: to
never grow weary of building glorious empires and halls full of honors forever."
 
"I could think of nothing more pointless," Merrick sneered.
 
"Oblivion is utterly pointless," the Klingon countered. "Of course no sane
sentient being wishes to suffer unceasingly either. But tell me truthfully which
is better: to be happy and fulfilled forever or to be nothing forever?"
 
"You talk a lot for a Klingon."
 
"We can return to fighting till your death any time you choose," he deadpanned.
 
"Let's keep talking."
 
"Good. You did not answer my question. Would you not prefer living happy and
fulfilled for always?"
 
"I believe that existing eternally and being happy are mutually exclusive,"
Merrick said.
 
"Are they? Even if they are, what sense is it to believe that? Nothingness gets
you nothing. If that is the reality we face then we may as well kill each other
now and be done with it for all the difference it will make in the end."
 
"That's a selfish thought."
 
"I'll ask you if you care once you're dead."
 
Merrick felt unsettled by the point, but said nothing.
 
"I sense that you have not always abandoned yourself to the mere pretention of
having a purpose."
 
"I think maybe I prefer fighting after all."
 
"You used to believe in something didn't you," he observed. "Why did you give
that up? Why did you give into the absurdity of your non-belief?"
 
"You self-righteous ass."
 
"You weakling coward. You sit here facing your death. The universe gives you a
warrior philosopher to help you sort through your final moments and you still
refuse to deal with what really matters. Why bother fighting? Is it just because
your genes compel you? Because if they didn't make you fight they would already
have died out? Is that all you are? A self-perpetuating
meme whose sole purpose is to exist?"
 
"Let's just say I'm in no mood to die today."
 
"So that is all you are then. A shifting mood. Choosing to fabricate meaning
because it suits how you feel. How very disappointing. I had hoped there'd be
more to you than that."
 
"Isn't that your line of reasoning? Believing in your Stovo whatsits because you
don't like the alternative?"
 
"Are you not paying attention? Your alternative ... oblivion ... is inherently
not worth discussing even if it is true. If you disagree, I'll be happy to
listen to you argue the point after we're both cold rotting corpses."
 
And in a silent blinding rush, the Klingon was suddenly across the room ramming
Merrick straight into the cave wall. Merrick didn't know what had hit him. Least
of all did he comprehend how the amrour encumbered Klingon had moved so fast.
All he knew was that his whole body suddenly ached and he tasted blood in his
mouth.
 
But that was all. He was still alive and the Klingon was gone. And as he came to
his senses, he heard a voice.
 
"Commander Merrick?!" Yarith sounded worried, but controlled for a change.
 
It took his eyes a few moments to focus. Where in the hell am I, he thought as
the lights made him squint. "The Klingon Lieutenant, the one I was fighting
where did he go?"
 
"The Klingon sir, I don't understand. We found you alone in that cave,
unconscious." Yarith said.
 
"Cerebral anoxia." Corbett said.
 
"What?" Both Yarith and Merrick said in unison.
 
"In laymen's terms the good Commander had a lack of oxygen to his brain, which
caused a hallucination and quite a doosey it seems." Corbett answered.
 
 
NRPG: From Brian - Thanks a million to Steve for contributing to this post. He
really made it work.
 
 
Respectfully Submitted Jointly,
 
 
Steve Apple
 
Dr. Stile Corbett
 
CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
 
and
 
 
Brian V. Mansur
 
LCDR Sean Merrick
 
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Step Up==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Step Up
 
SD 2260.205
MD 10.0030
 
 
Scene: Bridge, IKS BLOOD OATH
 
Koreth shifted in his command chair, wincing at the reports.  Two line
battlecruisers had suffered serious damage.  Another was now being pursued hotly
by the HOOD.  And from all indications, the HOOD had taken only light damage. 
 
Koreth slammed his fist onto his arm rest.  Well, *that* had certainly
determined how well the Federation had upgraded their starship designs.  It was
time to end this phase the operation. 
 
"Helm!" he barked.  "Take us out!  Intercept the Federation ship."
 
 
 
 
Scene: Bridge, USS HOOD
 
"Um, captain," Navigator Hartinger began, "I think we're about to get our asses
kicked."
 
Steele was about to ask what the commander was talking about when he glanced at
the Nav's tri-d scope and instantly did a double take.  A ship larger than any
Steele had seen was barreling after them. 
 
Steele wasted no time.  "Hemux.  Analysis now."  A few twists of nobs and
thumping of buttons later and the Science Office told them everything they
didn't want to hear. 
 
"An unknown class of Klingon starship.  Reading multiple heavy weapons sir."
Hemux as serenely as she could manage under the circumstances.  No one bothered
to mention that the enemy was gaining fast.  After the latest engagement, the
engines were doing their best to make Warp 7 after the battlecruiser ahead. 
 
Which was now turning to face them.  They were caught in a pincer. 
 
"Aw crap," Steele said.
 
 
NRPG: Dan B/Steve, I know this was meant to be a JP, but given the posting
frequency these last few weeks, I made the command decision to put out this
postlet that you or anyone else could build off of.  If you have something you
want me to add to, just pass it over.  The Klingons are coming guys!  Dave, Dan
G, you still there?  Bring out the Brown Pants! 
 
 
Respectfully Submitted,
 
Brian V. Mansur
 
LCDR Sean Merrick
 
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 1==
===by Steve Apple and Brian V. Mansur===
 
SD 2260.205
 
MD 10.0030
 
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 1
 
 
 
Scene: Security Holding Cell, IKS BLOOD OATH
 
 
 
Commodore Koreth relaxed on the unpadded durasteel slab protruding from the holding cell's wall. He watched as two of his warriors rolled in a high backed chair and portable computer console. The chair featured clamps to hold arms and feet in place.  At the top of the chair lay a metallic band with needles and electrodes.
 
 
 
An old Klingon nodded to the Commodore as he entered the room. “My Lord.”
 
 
 
Koreth looked his chief healer over. How such an old man managed to keep all the warriors on this ship battle ready was a mystery to him. Koreth trusted the old man more than anyone else alive.  And that was saying something since Klingons generally hated the sight of healers.  No warrior ever wanted to admit to weakness.  Koreth smiled as he remembered being a boy on his Father’s cruiser and meeting the healer, who was old even then, for the first time.
 
 
 
“Why aren’t you dead?” Koreth asked.
 
 
 
The ancient Klingon wheezed a laugh and started to check the chair's equipment. "Because I promised your Father I’d watch over you.  Now go do something heroically fatal so I can die already.”
 
 
 
Koreth chuckled, but quickly sobered. “I must say that I am not completely satisfied with this plan, qan loD,” he said eyeing the machine. “Something about this seems dishonorable.”
 
 
 
The wise old healer stopped his work and regarded his friend. “Honor is for warriors, not the likes of these.  We do what is necessary.”
 
 
 
Koreth mulled that over and found he had to agree with his mentor's reasoning. “Bring in the leader!” Koreth shouted into the hallway.
 
 
 
Presently, two warriors dragged in a struggling young man. The blond haired, green eyed human male wore a red Star Fleet tunic with lieutenant’s stripes.
 
 
 
“Strap him down.” The healer said grimly as he lifted the metal band from the top of the chair.
 
 
 
“Your mothers will boil in your piss and roast in your crap once you all go to hell!"  the redshirt cursed. "You murderous sons of bitches let me go for just five seconds and I'll rip your nuts off and shove them up your asses!
 
 
The entertained warriors looked as if they wanted to take the colorful man up on his challenge, but lashed him into the seat as they were told.
 
 
 
The healer ignored this bold ranting and grabbed the red shirt's hair, yanking his head down. “Hold him in this position for a moment!” he barked to the closest warrior. With the man’s skull in a headlock, the healer opened the metal band. Carefully, he positioned the 2 inch long needles over the man’s cerebellum.
 
 
 
The terrified young lieutenant screamed in gasping horror and jerking agony as the healer shoved the band into place, then clasped it shut. 
 
 
 
“This device,” the healer said as he snapped the redshirted man’s head back. “Is called the mind-sifter.  Or mind-ripper depending on how much force is used.  With it we can record every thought, every scrap of knowledge in your brain. Of course, when we use that much force, the mind is emptied... permanently, I'm afraid.”
 
 
 
The human went a shade whiter.  “For god's sake," he pleaded. "I was just an junior operations officer at the outpost. What do you think I could possibly know that you don't already?”
 
 
 
“I don’t care what you know.” The healer said impassionately. “I’m only interested in emptying your mind so I can refill it with want I want you to know."
 
 
 
 
 
Scene: Command Room, IKS BLOOD OATH
 
 
Koreth flipped on the view screen in his command room and was momentarily taken aback by the team that stood ready on the transporter platform. The redshirted Earthers were perfect pawns. They might succeed where all other contingencies had failed. They were human and had once been Star Fleet and so should have no problem with the onboard intruder alert system of the Earth ship.  Their reprogrammed brains should hold up long enough to render terrible havoc aboard the HOOD.
 
 
 
“My Lord!” They shouted in unison as they laid their right fists on their hearts in an almost perfectly choreographed movement.
 
 
Koreth appraised the team warily. “Stand ready my warriors.” He said to them and then saluted back. “Your honors are double this day. You will be the first warriors to test our new boarding transporter. On my signal you will be beamed aboard the Earth vessel while its shields are still up. Your mission will be to destroy their shielding array and take over their weapons control."
 
 
 
“For the Glory of the Empire!” They shouted.
 
 
 
“May your enemies run from you in fear.” Koreth said then turned his viewer off and exited his command room. "Prepare for battle!" He shouted to his bridge crew.
 
 
<NRPG>> Looks like security is going to have their hands full. Also Brian did an awesome job of making this post come alive
 
 
 
 
 
Respectfully Submitted Jointly,
 
 
Steve Apple,
 
Stile Corbett, MD
 
CMO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
 
 
Brian V. Mansur
 
LCDR Sean Merrick
 
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: [ORIGINS]USS HOOD: Payback==
===by Andy Catterick===
 
SD: 2260.210
 
MD: 10.0130
 
Scene: Outskirts of Outpost complex
 
Lieutenant Yarith took two deep breaths and then held them counted to three and then spun around the rock.  Three quick taps of her phaser rifle and three Klingon warriors were removed from her base.  She quickly scanned the area to make sure it was secured before briefly turning back to look at the dead Klingons.  She regarded them as if they were insects she had just stepped on.  She'd never killed anyone before.  She'd always hoped that she would never have to.  At least never in so personal away.  If anything she'd always assume that any combat she'd be involved in would be sitting behind a console on a ship.  But after watching two of her people, two of her friends, beheaded after they tried to surrender she had no problem killing these vermin. 
 
Climbing to her feet she gave the area another quick scan before waving the three HOOD crewman DeSimms had assigned her forward.  One of the them, she thought his name was Robson, looked as if he was going to say something but thought better of it.  He was probably going to remind her that the HOOD security officer had 'suggested' weapons should be set on heavy stun.  The hope was that this incident could be contained.  Incident she snorted with disgust.  This was a plain old fashioned mugging.  The Klingons thought they'd just walk over the base but they were finding out Starfleet wasn't as soft as their leaders told them.  She planning on making sure every Klingon she found got that message clearly.  "Alright people this section is clear.  If we head north we should be able to reconnect with the main HOOD contingent.  Keep your eyes open.  I've got point."
 
As the small group moved out the three red shirts traded looks.  They were more then happy to give the Klingons some payback.  But Yarith had clearly lost it and they didn't want her thirst for vengeance to walk them in to an ambush.  Robson as the senior of the three decided it was best he spoke up. "Sire, might I make a suggestion sir?"
 
"Of course Mr. Robson."  Yarith answered as he continued to scan the way ahead.
 
"Well sir if we divert east for 1/2 a click we can swing back north but we'll have the cove of those trees sir.  It'll take a little longer to get where we're going."
 
"But we'll get there alive."  She finished.
 
"Yes sir."  Robson answered, clearly relived.
 
"Makes sense to me." She looked back at the three HOOD security officers.  "Don't worry I haven't lost it.  We'll get back to your Lieutenant DeSimms."
 
Brian and any abord ship.  Interested in setting up a few posts with shipbaord stuff...I'd rather not do a big JP...still trying to keep to the ORIGNS short and frquent posts in the hopes of generating some volume and some new recruits ;-).  We can work something up 'behind the scenes' if you like and then fire off some posts.  Let me know.  And of course I'm open for similar posts for planetside as well.
 
 
Respectfully,
 
 
Andy
 
CAPT Jack Steele
 
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703
 
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Over Our Heads?==
===by Scott Lusby===
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: "Over Our Heads?"
Posted by: Scott Lusby (LCDR Gar Th'elenth)
 
SD: 2260.211
MD: 10.0039
Setting: Main Engineering, O-Deck, USS HOOD
 
 
Lieutenant Commander Gar Th'elenth lifted himself off the deck after a second
round of disruptor fire battered the HOOD's shields. Despite the battering, he
WAS grateful about one thing: one way or another, he knew the battle would be
over shortly- either they would be victorious and they'd spend the next few days
lickign their wounds, or they'd loose, and their deaths would be, in all
likelihood, be quick.
 
As an officer who'd been around the block a few times, Gar understood something
most civilians and new officers alike didn't: starship combat was, almost
without exception, inherently short. If one side overwhelmed the other, either
the overmatched side withdrew from combat before it got bad or they got
destroyed. Sometimes a more even fight would drag out for a few minutes before
some peace was negotiated or someone withdrew. But battles lasting for more
than a ten minutes or so were rare indeed- some other variable needed to be
introduced in order for battles to last longer than that.
 
The reasoning was simple: the weapons systems were "ahead" of the defensive
systems in the technology curve at this current point in history. The focused
and shaped antimatter charges of the modern photon torpedo were more than a
starship's shields could handle when massed in a sufficient quantity. The new
point defense systems was a help...but given enough incoming targets to parry,
event he best systems could be overwhelmed. And once the shields were
down...well, that usually spelled the end.
 
From what Gar had seen on the tactical repeater, this was NOT an even fight.
 
Under normal circumstances, they'd simply make a "strategic advance to the
rear," as one of Andoria's more colorful generals from history once said.
However, there WAS a "variable" that changed everything.
 
The landing party and the personnel of Outpost 8.
 
That made Gar's job- and, more to the point, the job of his department- much
more diffiult, as he would have to try to hold HODO together despite being
outgunned until they could get back to Outpost 8.
 
The shields would be everything, he knew; they were the weak link. Given enough
time, he knew HOOD's enhanced phasers and deadlier torpedoes could poke holes in
the battlecruiser AND the battleship out there.
 
Given enough time...which meant keeping the shields up.
 
"I want a damage-control team standing by at each generator," Gar shouted. "The
shields MUST stay up!"
 
At that moment, the ship rocked again, tossing him to the deck again.
 
However, someting was wrong, Gar knew- he was tossed a lot harder than he should
have been.
 
Immediately, he got up, and instinctively checked the shield status indicators.
Oddly, they showed damage, but they had not collapsed, which is what he assuemd
when he hit the deck as hard as he did- usually that was a tell-tale sign of a
generator going.
 
However, the flashing red light on his status board offered an explanation- and
a potentially more deadly problem.
 
The inertial dampeners.
 
These devices were the real key to starship travel: without them, the sudden and
extreme accelerations, decelerations and high speeds would squash most living
beings into something resembling a gooey paste. Destroyed inertial dampeners
essentially froze a starship in place until they were fixed.
 
Apparently, disruptor fire- probably massed from both Klingon opponents- briefly
overwhelemd their forward shield generators and didn't dissipate all of the
incoming fire efficiently, allowing some to bleed through. And it struck their
dampening systems. Torpedo fire- especially massed fire, if it got passed the
point defense- would have collapsed the entire forward shield system- had to be
the disruptors...
 
"Get a team to G-deck, immediately- we have a short in the primary inertial
dampening system!" Gar shouted.
 
Suddenly, violently, he hit the deck again, and watched the shield status cions
flash yellow on his board.
 
**Maybe this will be a quick one after all,** the Andorian thought as he pushed
his bruised body up off the deck one more time.
 
 
<<TIMELINE:>>
 
MD 10.0039: Gar contemplates the nature of starship combat and directs his repair
teams during the Klingon onslaught.
 
 
<<NRPG:>>
 
All- Sorry for the continued delays. However, I am here and alice and back to
normal contact levels. :)
 
Let me second Andy's comments: we need to post, guys. Some of you are posting
regularly...and some aren't without being pinged. Time to jump in head-first,
everyone, and just write. Something. ANYTHING. If you don't know what to do
plot-wise, then do some CD instead. Or drop Andy/Brian/me a line. We can help.
But please, everyone...POST. This ORIGINS thing we're doing will not survive if
we don't stay ACTIVE.
 
You do not need to post a whole novel- a few paragraphs is perfectly acceptable,
as long as you write often. Posting frequent short posts, like every week or
two, is the best way to stay with the plot, the action of the story. Going
longer between posts almost always results in the loss of the plot's direction.
 
Now...we have a battle in space...a battle on the Outpost...there's plenty to
do. What about a bridge view of the combat- Dan G., Eric, how about it? Eric,
you were looking for something to do other than ComicCon... As for the planet,
Dan B., thats eems tailor-made for you.
 
Let's do this and kick some butt!
 
 
Respectfully Submitted,
 
-- Scott Lusby
 
/\ LCDR Gar Th'elenth
 
Chief Engineer
 
USS HOOD NCC-1703
 
ASR: ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 2==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
 
[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Why It Sucks to Be a Redshirt Lesson 2
 
SD: 2260.211
MD: 10.0040
 
 
Scene: Bridge, IKS BLOOD OATH
 
Koreth wanted to spit in disgust. The Federation battlecruiser was still pumping
out an impressive rate of fire, wearing down the Klingon D7. The HOOD's captain
evidently wanted to take *someone* with him if he was to lose this fight. Koreth
studied the tactical screen. Holes in the starship's shields were forming
intermittantly.
 
"Standby on transporters," he ordered. "Energize when ready."
 
 
Scene: Deck J, Near Forward Fire Control, USS HOOD.
 
Crewman Yuri snapped his head around and drew his phaser pitol at the sound of
what could only have been a transporter beam. Staring anxiously down the
cooridor, he cursed the curving bulkheads which must have put the beam-in just
out of his line of sight. Fumbling, he flipped open his communicator.
 
"Security, its Yuri. Possible boarders Deck J, intersect to cooridors 9 and 15."
 
[Roger that Yuri. Hold tight. Sending support.]
 
Yuri sighed. Thank heavens he didn't have to go and look. He was just starting
to ease off his adrenaline rush a bit when he saw the shadows of several
advancing figures. So much for waiting for back up. Well, he'd always wanted to
be a hero as a kid. Now was his chance. He went for the inner wall and crouched
low. The trigger on his pistol eased back and then ....
 
"Whoa there hot shot!" the man in the lead said. "We're on your side."
 
Yuri almost peed his pants. It was the redshirts to the rescue.
 
"You sure got here fast," Yuri gasped. "I could have sworn there was a beam-in
just where you guys walked in from."
 
"Yeah well, you're just jumpy," the security officer with lieutant stripes said.
"Don't worry about it." Then the ship lurched again and he looked about. "We got
enough to worry about as it is."
 
With the emotional seasaw Yuri was on, he figured the LT was right. Something
though picked at the back of his mind.
 
"Hey, um, sorry but I don't think we've met sir." He eyed the two other security
guards. And then stark terror hit him anew. They hadn't met!
 
"Yep. Too bad we won't have time to get to know each other. Been nice knowing
you though." And Yuri went up in a blaze of incadescent carbon atoms and steam.
The lead redshirt shook his head regretfully and whistled up the corridor.
Several Klingons promptly appeared from around the bend.
 
"Fire control should be just up that way on these ships," the lieutenant said
pointing.
 
 
NRPG: Scott, that's two redshirts I've killed off now. How many are you up to?
No fair if you're counting the Connie!
 
 
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
 
==USS HOOD: We Need an Edge.==
===by Andy Catterick===
 
SD: 2260.212
MD: 10.0045
Setting: Bridge, USS HOOD
 
Jack held the sides of his command chair tightly as HOOD rocked violently from the sustained Klingon fire.  The elation that had swept the bridge as they had taken  the second weakened cruiser out of the fight had vanished the second its drifting image was replaced with the hungry predator the Klingons had obviously held back.  The dreadnaught outmassed and outgunned HOOD and everyone on the bridge new it.  Jack had no doubt that HOOD had both the technical and proficiency edge but he didn’t know if it would be enough given the damage they had already taken.  The Klingons were masters at attack.  But most of their doctrine centered around a brute force approach.  They drove in hard and kept attacking until victorious or dead.  Klingons rarely withdrew and other then maneuvers resembling a pack mentality their tactics were non existent.  Having said that there were dozens of races that could attest to the fact that the brute force approach, when conducted effectively, was all too often overwhelming.
 
 
As he ran through his options he realized he had little room to maneuver.  The safe move would be to withdraw.  There were two destroyers on the way and HOOD could keep her distance long enough to wait for them.  Once on the scene the three ships could pick the dreadnaught apart like hyenas attacking a lion.  He grimaced at the image.  But the easy approach would leave the Outpost and all the HOOD and Starfleet personnel he had left behind there unprotected. And of course turning from the fight would be received by the Klingon Empire as a clear indication of Starfleet’s weakness both physically and morally.  He could not let that happen.  Command had been clear on that HOOD was expendable so long as she inflicted a savage toll on her attacks.  Savage enough that they’d think twice about taking on Starfleet and the other 11 CONSITUTION class vessels.
 
 
Unfortunately at the moment Steele had no idea how he was going to accomplish that goal let alone survice to fight another day.
 
 
“Captain.”  Lieutenant Hemux looked up from his scanner.  “I’ve been analyzing the Klingon’s attack pattern and I think it highly likely that they mean to disable rather then destroy us.  The targets have been predominantly areas of the ship that will hamper our mobility.”
 
 
Jack’s eyebrows shot up.  What had been telling himself about the Klingon’s lack of creativity and finesse?  It made sense.  If this was an assault designed to test Starfleet’s newest warship class why not go for the brass ring and try to capture her?  They’d be able to dissect her at their leisure and once complete would be able to walk across the Federation.  For the first time in his career he really understood the need for a self destruct device just as he knew he would have no hesitation ordering its use. 
 
           
 
“Helm lets get some distance.”  He ordered just as the intruder alarm began to signal.
 
 
“Klingon’s aboard roughly three dozen spread across multiple decks.  Security responding.” The comm officer reported.
 
 
“Commander Hartinger for now we’re going to have to stick with strafing attacks.  Target their engines.  Helm as soon as you get the signal from Engineering that all shields are back up take us in.  Lieutentant Hemux, scan the outlying systems and find me an edge.”
 
 
<<<NRPG>>>
 
 
Just a quick one to keep the ball rolling.
 
 
David: A nice nebula, asteroid field, any sort of spatial anomaly that can even us up with the Klingons would be really helpful right now! ;-)
 
 
Respectfully,
 
 
Andy
 
CAPT Jack Steele
 
CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703 
 
ASR: ORIGINS
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